


If we only have tonight

by EliseDorian (mariyam)



Series: Arno x Élise Forever [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst, Assassin's Creed: Unity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2832767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariyam/pseuds/EliseDorian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arno and Élise spend the night together before their final confrontation with Germain.</p><p>Contains spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fic. I have too many feels, I can't contain them.
> 
> This is my fantasy, how I imagine their last night, before Élise writes her last letter while Arno is sleeping. Tried to make it as canon as possible, but as I said, this is my fantasy... Élise is definitely the one wearing the pants in the relationship, but I like to think Arno manages to make her give up control when they are sharing their bed. 
> 
> Please do not hesitate and leave a comment. I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> Oh, and English isn't my first language. 
> 
> I hope you like it!

[Say My Name](http://foreverfallen16.deviantart.com/art/Say-My-Name-508743623) by [ForeverFallen16](http://foreverfallen16.deviantart.com/)

The maid brings another bucket of hot water and pours its content in the bathtub. “Thank you, that will be enough, I think.” The maid nods and leaves the room in quiet footsteps.

Élise unbuttons her coat and her waistcoat, and undoes her jump, breathing a sigh of relief as she is freeing herself from her constrictive clothes. “At least I’m not wearing one of those dreadful stays”, she thinks to herself. She folds her clothes neatly and lays them on the back of a chair. She sits at the foot of the bed to take off her boots and bracers. She then proceeds to unbutton and take off her breeches, followed by her stockings, who quickly join the pile of clothes on the chair. Wearing only her shirt, she walks to the fireplace, next to the bathtub. She unties and fluffs her hair by wiggling her fingers through it. Her hands slide down to her neck. She digs her finger in her flesh, in a desperate attempt to release some tension.

Arno quietly enters the room, and stares silently at the appearance in front of him. Standing by the light of the fireplace, her hair is a deep fiery red color, brighter than ever. Her usually pale skin took on a warm glow. Careful not to make a sound, he walks up to her and whispers softly in her ear: “Do you need help with that?” She jumps and turns around to face Arno, heart pounding, clutching her chest.

She punches him on the shoulder with a clenched fist. “Don’t you ever sneak up on me like that!”

He extends a gloved hand to affectionately caress her cheek. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You looked so tense, so… preoccupied. Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Just  bit… tired, that’s all.”

He sees gloominess in her sea blue eyes, but he doesn’t insist. She takes a deep breath, and forces a broad smile. If the day ahead meant this was their last night together, she was going to make it count. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and, standing on her toes, locks her lips on his to kiss him tenderly, her hands sliding upwards to his neck. “I was about to take a bath. Want to join me?” Her right hand fingers twist and twirl his ponytail. A kiss, his mere presence in her arms, are enough to lift some of the weight off her shoulders. He plants a quick kiss on her forehead. “That sounds lovely. Let me get rid of all of this and I’ll be right with you.”

Regretfully leaving her embrace, he walks towards the bed while taking off his gloves. Sensing eyes behind him, he turns around and sees Élise staring at him, playing distractedly with one of the neckties of her shirt. “What are you staring at?”

“The man I love.”

He reaches down to untie his belt and discards it aside, followed by his blade and bracers. He sits on the bed to take off his boots, his coat, his waistcoat, and his stockings. He stands up to unbutton and take off his breeches. With his hands, he reaches between his shoulder blades, grabs his shirt, and pulls it over his head. He shivers as the cool air brushes his naked body. He steps towards the bathtub, savoring the warmth emanating from the fireplace on his skin. Élise is still standing in the warm glowing light, her eyes gazing up and down his body.

She turns her back to him, seizing her red mane, twisting it into a bun on the top of her head, fastening it in place with a lavishly decorated comb. He closes the distance between them, his hand reaching for her hips, gliding effortlessly over the thin fabric of her shirt around her waist and her tummy, while his lips leave butterfly kisses on her neck. She lets out a soft moan, relishing his touch. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, you are the one wearing too many clothes, Mademoiselle de la Serre.”

“And what are you going to do about that, Monsieur Dorian?”

His hands slide back to her hips, tugging at her shirt, pulling it over her head. Then in one swift move, he spins her around to face him. She shrieks in surprise, but she is interrupted by Arno’s lips upon hers. Tongues collide and explore in a deep, passionate kiss, leaving them gasping for air. Her bare breasts brush his chest, sending shivers down his spine, settling at his groin. Her hands travel to the small of his back, down to his bum, giving it a gentle squeeze. She gives him a playful look. “Come on, you filthy boy, let’s get you washed up!”

Holding his hand, she steps in the tub. The water is still hot, but quite pleasant. He follows her and sits at the opposite end. They settle in comfortably, letting the hot water slowly ease away the tension in their muscles. Eyes closed, she lets out a deep sigh, content. He interrupts her reverie.

“Élise, I… I love you. I just want you to know it. You are everything to me. I can’t let anything happen to you, I...”

She opens her eyes. His brows are frowned, he looks genuinely worried. With a reassuring smile, she sits up on her knees, leaning forward to be closer to him, and delicately brushes his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Shhh my love. I know. You don’t need to do anything for me. I love you. With all my heart.”

She reaches for a sponge, plunges it in the water and rubs a bit of a soap on it to produce a rich and creamy lather. In long, sensual motions of her right hand, she glides the sponge over his arms, his shoulders, and his chest, reaching down underwater to his abdomen, his groin, over his thighs and his calves. Her left hand follows the same path, insisting, rubbing the lather on his skin. He closes his eyes, humming in pleasure, savoring her lascivious touch on his body. “I could get used to his.”

She chuckles. “I bet. Turn around, let me wash your back.”

He half-stands up, turning around to face the opposite direction. She scoots back to the end of the tub, giving him some room. As he settles in the tub, tilting his head back, bracing his knees with his hands, she kneels behind him, her soapy hands traveling up and down his back in smooth movements. She leans forward, bringing her hands to his shoulders for balance and resting her chest against his back. Her nipples harden on contact with his skin.  Her lips leave a trail soft kisses in the crook of his neck. He lays his hand on hers, fingers interlocking. “Your turn.”

They switch positions again, giggling at the awkwardness of their tangled limbs, water splashing on the floor, finally sitting down facing in the same direction. He takes the sponge and soap, foaming it up, and begins washing her back in gentle strokes. Seizing her shoulders, he invites her to recline, laying her back on his chest and her head on his shoulder. She can feel his erection touching her back. “I take it this isn’t the hilt of your sword...”

He kisses the top of her head. “What can I say, you really have a bad influence on me.”

She hums in delectation at their close skin-on-skin contact, and at the heat pooling in her center. Holding the soapy sponge, he washes her arms, her chest and her abdomen. Tentatively, he ventures lower, between her legs. He takes her muffled moans as a sign of approval. Putting the sponge aside, he glides his hands over her perky breasts, cupping and massaging them delicately, rolling her nipples between his thumb and index, while leaving wet kisses on her shoulder, her neck and her ear. His right hand slides down her abdomen towards her center. Instinctively, she spreads her legs a little, granting him permission to touch her in the most intimate ways. His fingertips explore her delicate folds, ending their course on her little bundle of nerves, caressing it gingerly in circular motions. She bites her lower lip, letting out a quiet moan. He can sense her tension easing away, but she’s not giving in completely yet. “Let go, Élise. Give yourself to me.”

She takes a deep breath and tilts her hips upwards, legs spreading further, taking hold on the edges of the tub. With his free hand, he takes her chin to turn her head towards him, so he could ravish her mouth, his tongue darting to meet hers, insisting. Meanwhile, he continues his exploration of her folds, finding her entrance. He carefully slips a finger in her slick wetness, then a second, while flicking her clit with his thumb. Breaking the kiss, she gasps at the new sensations, her hips moving against his fingers, her back arching, feeling her pleasure build up rapidly. His free hand travels back to her plump breasts, brushing and caressing her nipples. The faster he pumps his fingers and flicks her clit, the more ragged her breathing becomes. “That’s it. Come for me.” And she does, letting out a cry. He feels her walls clenching around his fingers, her whole body shuddering. As she rides her orgasm, he bites her in the crook of her neck, leaving his mark. “Mine.” She gradually comes back to her senses, her breathing easing down, her body going limp in his arms. He cups her chin to bring her lips to his own for a long, passionate kiss. She purrs in satisfaction. “I am yours.”

She rests her head on his shoulder, eyes closed, a faint smile on her lips. “The water is getting cold,” he remarks, after a long moment. She chuckles. “I guess we better go to bed.” They both stand up and step out of the tub, dripping water on the wooden floor. He reaches for the plush linen towels left by the maid, and wraps one around her shoulders. It smelled of lavender and vanilla. He wraps his towel around his waist. She points at his groin. “And we better do something about… this.”

He bends his head down to stare at his throbbing cock, blushing. “You have plans, mademoiselle?”

She gives him her naughtiest look. “You will have to wait and see, monsieur!

He sweeps her off her feet and into his arms and she wraps her arms around his neck. Lips locked, he carries her to the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

In his haste, he misses the last step climbing to the bed platform and almost trips on his clothes left in a pile. She shrieks at her near-miss encounter with the bedpost and bursts out in laughter. “The Master Assassin in his fully coordinated glory! Easy there, or someone will get hurt!”

His towel slips from his hips, he sways to pick it up from the floor, but suddenly realises he’s still carrying Élise in his arms. He laughs at his own clumsiness. “Do I have to mention again the bad influence you have on me…?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she commands, regaining her composure. She doesn’t have to ask twice. He takes her mouth boldly, devouring her lips, his tongue plunging inside, dancing with hers. Reaching the edge of the bed, he carefully puts her down, sliding the towel off her shoulders and tossing it aside, never losing contact with her lips. He climbs on the bed and lies next to her, wedging a knee between her legs. His hand travels from her thigh, to her hip, around her bum, and to her waist, ending on her breast. He never gets tired of her touching and teasing her soft mounds. As one, they broke the kiss, breathing heavily. Freeing one hand, she suddenly pushes him over to his back and swiftly straddles him, the tip of his cock touching her bum. She reaches for the comb in her hair and pulls it out, her hair falling in a flaming cascade over her shoulders. He was already head-over-heels in love with her, and he was already craving her in the deepest of his bones, but the mere sight of her body over his made him fall in love all over again and filled his heart with desire like never before.

She brings her hands to his chest, her fingertips circling his nipples with the lightest of touches. Her hands glide expertly downwards over his abs, and slide back up on his sides. She feels his muscles twitch under her touch, and he groans at all the deliciously maddening sensations arising from her caresses. Moving her hands to rest on his shoulders for balance, she leans forward to kiss his jaw, her breasts brushing against his skin. Her lips travel to his ears, and with a flick of her tongue she takes his earlobe in her mouth, sucking gently. She lazily wiggles her hips, grinding her backside against his manhood. Groaning louder, he palms her bum, encouraging her movements, in search of increased friction. She sits up abruptly, putting a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Nah-ha. It’s your turn to give in.” Whimpering, he parts his lips and sucks on her fingertip. She winks saucily at him. “Naughty boy. Is that a hint?”

She leans forward again to plant a mouthy kiss on his lips, then his jawline and his neck. She glides down his entire body, dragging her lips and her tongue over his chest, his abs and his pelvis, while her hands slide over his shoulders and along his sides. As she reaches the object of her desire, she settles comfortably between his legs, nonchalantly crossing her ankles in the air. She seizes his generous cock with her right hand, bringing it to her mouth, her lips encircling the tip into her hot wetness, tongue swirling, while she fondles his balls with her left hand. He threads his fingers in her hair, a deep feral groan coming from his throat. Smirking in satisfaction at the effect she has on him, she slowly lowers her head, taking his cock deep inside her mouth. Then, she languidly pulls her head back up, sucking and tasting his pre-cum already pearling at the tip. Rolling her tongue around the shaft, she slips her mouth up and down again, soon finding a perfectly synchronized rhythm, dragging her fingernails on his thighs. His gaze locked on her sensual mouth, he feels his pleasure build up rapidly. His breathing accelerating, he instinctively starts rocking his hips, burying his fingers deeper in her hair, his nails scraping her scalp, guiding her head. “Élise, if you keep this up, I…”, he pants, incapable of finishing his sentence.

Giving him a smoldering look, she pulls his cock out of her mouth and flicks the tip with her tongue while stroking his length. “You are exactly where I want you to be: at my complete mercy. And I have no intention to stop,” she purrs.

Wrapping her lips around his cock again, she moves up and down, sucking harder, while her hand follows the movements of her lips, stroking faster. Taking a deep breath, he lets himself savor every lick, every suck, and every stroke. Feeling her own arousal pooling between her legs, she moans and hums around him, the vibrations from her throat sending waves of pleasure throughout his entire body. She can feel his cock beginning to throb in her mouth, his chest rising and falling quickly, his hips rocking erratically, begging for release. Suddenly and with a loud groan, he squeezes his eyes shut and explodes in her hungry mouth, shooting his hot seed down her throat in several powerful surges, his whole body quivering in ecstasy. She swallows as quickly as she can, semen dripping from the corner of her mouth down to her chin. Moaning in delectation as she licks her lips, she gently releases his sensitive cock from her grip, placing a delicate kiss on the tip. Still tightly holding on to her hair, he pulls her head up towards him, one of his his hand reaching down to her bum to bring her closer. Pressing his lips to hers, he can taste himself as his tongue darts and swirls inside her mouth. Breaking the kiss, she trails her lips to his neck, digging her teeth in his flesh. “Mine.”

He takes her chin between his index and his thumb, lifting her head to meet her lips again. “I am… going... to make you pay... for this... you know that?”, he says, punctuating his words with kisses.

She smiles coyly. “I have no doubt.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

With one hand behind her head, he takes possession of her mouth again, his other arm around her back in a tight embrace. He rolls her over in one swift move, taking the top, taking control. Brushing away a strand of her hair, his lips travel to her forehead and her temples. He then kisses the tiny freckles on her nose and on her cheeks, making his way to her ear and her jawline.

A soft moan escapes her lips as he leaves a trail of wet, mouthy kisses down her neck and her collarbone, while his hands cup her rounded breasts. His brings his mouth to her rock-hard left nipple, taking it in, teasing it with his tongue and gently sucking it. He then turns his attention to the other nipple, his teeth gently grazing it. Biting her lip, she threads her fingers in his thick dark hair, holding him there. The combined actions of his lips, his teeth and his tongue on her nipples was sending waves of pleasure straight to her center. She whimpers and pouts and lightly tugs at his ponytail in protest when he pulls away, his lips now tasting the skin between her breasts, his hands holding her sides. He meets her gaze, giving her a playful smirk. He works his way down running his tongue over her abdomen, stopping at her navel to kiss it and swirl his tongue around it, his hands sliding to her narrow waist and over her hip bones. He can feel her trembling in anticipation under his lips and his fingertips. Intuitively, she spreads her legs, offering her core to his caress, bringing her arms up next to her head, surrendering completely to his touch.

The sweet scent of her arousal hits his nostrils as he nuzzles her red soft curls, making her gasp with a quick flick of the tongue over her clit. Throwing her legs over his shoulders, he draws his tongue over her slit, probing between her pink, slick folds. He couldn’t help but feeling a surge of possessive male pride, knowing that she was desiring him, that she was craving his touch. He laps hungrily at her wetness, pushing his tongue deeper inside at each stroke, drawing moans of pleasure from her. Then, with his hands, he parts her lower lips, uncovering her clit, his tongue tracing circles around it. She mewls and writhes against his lips as he nips gently at her little bud, his stubble rasping against her folds, while his fingers find their way to her passage. Suckling on her clit, he inserts a first finger in her moist heat, and begins thrusting in long and deliberately slow moves. Her breathing became hitched when he inserts a second finger, his attention never turning away from her little nub. She wiggles her hips to meet each thrust of his fingers, intensifying her pleasure. “Arno… don’t stop…”, she wails, digging her fingers in his hair, holding tight, her nails scratching his scalp.

He releases her clit and looks up at her with a self-satisfied smile on his lips, his chin covered in her juices.. “Are you begging…?” Her only answer is to push his head back down, but he resists. “Say what you want, say it,” he taunts, flicking her clit a couple of times with his tongue.

She groans in frustration, tugging a little harder at his hair. “I… I want to come, please!”

He gives her a devilish smile. “That’s more like it.”

He resumes the thrusting of his fingers, eagerly licking and suckling her nub, determined to bring her over the edge. His wish is quickly fulfilled. She cries out loudly as her orgasm strikes, her walls clenching tightly around his fingers, her whole body shaking. His gaze locked at the sight of her coming undone, he pulls his fingers out slowly, places a soft kiss on her sensitive little bud, wipes his chin with the back of his hand, and makes his way up her body. Still trembling and shivering, she tugs at his hair to bring his lips to hers. The tastes of their arousals mingle as their tongues probe and dart in the other’s mouth. “I want you inside me,” she moans, grinding her hips, savoring the feeling of his erection probing at her center.

He chuckles. “Begging again, aren’t we?” He whispers to her ear, his voice raspy. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to beg for mercy.”

She writhes under him. “Hmmm, please...”

“Be careful what you wish for!” He slides his arm under her knee, and positions himself at her entrance. He penetrates her slowly, inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to his size. She winces as he sheaths himself to the hilt, filling her completely. His eyes search hers, silently asking is he was hurting her. She takes a deep breath and gives him an encouraging smile. He kisses her softly and begins moving his hips slowly, almost effortlessly, within her silken wetness. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he buries his face in the crook of her neck, nipping at her earlobe. He gradually quickens his movements, reaching a steady rhythm, that she echoes with the grinding of her hips. Then, pushing himself up with his arms, he sits back on his heels, grabbing her by the waist, taking full control of the rhythm and the force of their movements. She gasps and moans at each hard thrust. Suddenly, he pulls out of her, rising to his knees. She wants to protest, but before she can utter a word, he flips her around on her stomach, and slides his arms under her hips to lift her backside. With her flaming red hair tousled and tangled, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from all the kissing, her skin glistening from sweat, and her round buns up in the air, she was offering the most erotic sight he had ever seen, and it was driving him to the edge of madness. With one hand on her hip for balance, he penetrates her roughly, without warning. She lets out a cry of surprise, quickly followed by a long, throaty moan as he begins moving his hips again, pounding into her in a frenzy, the head of his cock hitting her cervix, making her waltz back and forth over the fine line between pleasure and pain. His grunts and her moans echo off the walls, getting louder and louder as they approach their climax. “So… close…please...”, she breathes.

He slaps her right butt cheek with his palm, making her screech in shock. His voice is hoarse. “And I got you begging again, naughty girl.”

Leaning forward, he snakes a hand between her legs, finding her little bundle of nerves. His fingers glide swiftly over it, and within seconds, she reaches a shattering orgasm, tears rolling down her cheeks from the intensity of her pleasure. The contractions of her inner muscles around his cock are just the stimulation he needs to join her in ecstasy, his warm seed gushing deep inside her, her walls milking him to the last drop.

Legs trembling and unable to hold herself up anymore, she collapses on her stomach, making him collapse on top of her. They both burst out in laughter, the rush of adrenaline from their lovemaking slowly subsiding, their breathing settling. Pushing her hair aside, he brings his mouth to the flesh of her neck, and takes one last bite, leaving another mark. “Mine. I win.”

She giggles, writhing under his weight. “Alright, you win. But now move, you’re heavy and I can't breathe!”

He rolls to the side and away from her. She lifts her head, and props herself on her elbows. Her face now serious, she stares into his deep brown eyes. “I love you, Arno. Whatever happens, please remember that I love you.”

He smiles, running his fingers through the locks of hair framing her beautiful face. “I love you, Élise. Say we’ll always be together, that you’ll never leave me.”

Hearing his words, she feels a pang in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes are veiled by gloominess again. “Do you remember what I wrote in my last letter?” He nods. “It went something like: 'We do not know what the next days, months or years will bring. All I know, is that we will always remain Arno and Élise'. God only knows what's in store for us tomorrow, my love. We... we can't make a promise we cannot keep.”

He reaches to cup her face and pulls her close, kissing her lips softly. "Then we should get some sleep," he says, kissing her forehead, his thumbs cajoling her cheeks.

She turns to lay on her side. He moves closer to lay next to her, pulling the bed covers over them, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to hold her tightly against him, their bodies fitting together like spoons. He places light kisses on her shoulder. "Sleep well." Eyes closed, he rests his head on the pillow, nuzzling her hair. Exhausted, he quickly falls asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

She closes her eyes, but sleep doesn't come. In his sleep, he loosens his embrace and his hand comes to rest on her tummy. In the dark and quiet room, feeling Arno's warm, regular breath on the back of her neck, she feels a surge of anxiety and fear rushing through her body. Could this be it? Is this the end of the road for them? And if they both make it alive tomorrow, could they ever live a normal life? Would they get married, would she ever bear his children? Feeling his protective hand on her tummy, her eyes fill with tears at the thought of a house full of little faces running and jumping around, knowing very well it will probably never happen. She sobs quietly, grateful that he cannot see her cry.

She takes several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Careful not to wake him up, she slips away from his embrace, out from under the bed covers, and off the bed. The cold air on her skin makes her shiver. She picks up his shirt from the pile of clothes next to the bed and puts it on. It smells of him, sweaty and musky. She brings the collar to her nose, trying to engrave his scent in her memory.

She tiptoes to down the stairs and towards the desk, the floor cracking under her footsteps. Holding her breath, she listens to any signs of Arno being awake. She hears him moving, but his snoring confirms that he is still asleep.

Sitting at the desk, she lights up the oil lamp. She picks a sheet of paper from the pile. Taking a quill and dipping it in the inkwell, she begins to write.

> My love,
> 
> As I write this you are asleep. If the light wakes you, I'll have some explaining to do, but at this moment you are sleeping peacefully. Tomorrow is the day, it seems -- the culmination of five long years, our moment of revenge. So why can I not quiet this part of me which fears that, at the tipping point, you will flinch?

She pauses, her chin resting on her hand, gathering her thoughts.

> Is it that I fear you loved my father less than I? Or do I doubt your resolve to strike the killing blow? I do not think so. Rather I fear that you have lost so much already that you cannot bear to lose more. I think that you would let Germain rule France if you thought it would "save" me.
> 
> Have you ever known me to need saving? Have you ever had cause to think that I would accept it if it were offered? My fate in my own. My choice is my own.

Her eyes fill with tears again, blurring her vision.

> If somehow we both return from this, I will burn this letter. If you are reading it now, then I made my choice there in the Temple. Know that I made it gladly, and do not take the burden of it onto yourself. Be at peace, my love, and walk what path you will.
> 
> All my love,
> 
> Élise

She can't fight the tears anymore, and they come rolling down her cheeks, her lower lip quivering. She covers her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle the sounds of her cries. After several minutes, her sobs quiet down. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths to regain her composure. Opening her eyes again, she wipes away her tears, puts the quill back in its place and folds the letter. Holding the wax stick above the lamp to warm it up, she lets a few drops of wax fall on the edge of the paper, and seals it with the stamp.

She turns off the lamp, and tiptoes to her own clothes by the fireplace to hide the letter in her pocket. She makes her way back to the bed, slipping as quietly as possible under the bed cover. She smiles faintly, realising she's still wearing his shirt. She will definitely have some explaining to do in the morning.

Suddenly, she feels the burden of five long years of fighting wearing her down. She is so, so tired. Rocked by Arno's regular breathing next to her, she finally drifts into in a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Élise wakes up feeling a hand stroking her cheek. She tries to open her eyes, but the sunlight is too bright, blinding her. Where was she? What time was it? The night has been too short. There’s a pounding in her head and soreness between her legs. Her mouth is dry, her eyes feel like they are filled with sand. The hand is now caressing her forehead, and she feels a finger running down the bridge of her nose. She finally manages to opens her eyes, and finds Arno staring at her, smiling tenderly. “Good morning, sunshine!” She groans, pulls the covers over her head and turns her back to him, trying to go back to sleep. He chuckles. “Still not a morning person, I see.”

“Hmmm… Arno… sleep…”, she mumbles from under the covers.

He moves closer to her, pulls down the covers from over her head, and wraps his arms around her to hold her tightly against his body. “Wait, are you wearing my shirt?”, he asks, surprised to find the rough material of his shirt instead of her smooth skin and her delicious curves. She doesn’t answer immediately. Her brain is too foggy. Slowly, one by one, she recalls the details of the night before. Their lovemaking. The panic attack. Getting up and putting on his shirt. Writing a letter. Another surge of anxiety hits her. She rubs her eyes, trying to focus her thoughts. “I… I’’m sorry, I was a bit cold and I… I just grabbed the first thing I could find…” He tugs at the collar to place soft kisses in the crook of her neck. “I don’t mind. But I do prefer you naked’, he murmurs, nibbling at her earlobe. “And it’s still early, and we don’t need to leave just yet…” She can feel his erection poking at her backside and his hand travelling from her shoulder to her breast, cupping and squeezing it gently over the fabric of his shirt. She breathes in and out, allowing herself to feel the warmth of his body against hers, melting away her fears and her anxiety. They can do this. They _will_ do this. Arno and Élise, the avengers. But… later. For now, they are Arno and Élise, the lovers, once more.

She moans softly as his hand glides from her breast to her side, down to her hip, slipping under his shirt, barely brushing her soft curls, moving back up over her tummy. Despite the soreness, she can feel a damp heat pooling between her legs. He kisses and licks the skin under her ear, and then gently blows on it, sending shivers down her spine. He helps her pull his shirt over her head, tossing it away on the floor. His hand slide down her naked body tentatively, awaiting permission to venture further between her legs. He grinds his hips against her bum, insisting, while his lips leave a trail of wet kisses on her shoulder, her neck and her cheek, his stubble making her skin tingle. She gives in and parts her legs, eager for his touch. His hand meet her folds, grazing them. Coated with her wetness, his fingers swiftly rub her little nub, forcing a loud moan from her lips. “I want you… now... “, she pants, feeling her pleasure building at a quick pace thanks to his agile fingers. Groaning at the thought of chasing his own release, he holds her leg up and positions himself at her entrance. She finches, bites her lip and lets out a muffled cry as he pushes inside of her in one deep thrust, her flesh still tender from yesterday’s action. She reaches behind her head to stroke his cheek. “Arno, err, you were perhaps a bit too enthusiastic yesterday, and…”

“Am I hurting you? I’m so sorry, my love, I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes, nuzzling her hair and inhaling her scent, trying to curb the overwhelming urge to thrust his hips and reach his climax as fast as possible.

She turns her head and smiles at him. “Just go slow and easy, big boy.”

Criss-crossing his arms around her to steady himself, he begins moving his hips in tantalizing and shallow thrusts. After a moment, taking the moans escaping her mouth as a green light, he pushes in deeper, filling her completely each time. He inhales and exhales slowly to keep his composure, fighting the overpowering sensations centering in his groin. At this rate, he wasn’t going to last very long. Everything about her was an assault to his senses. Her stunning beauty, the velvet in her voice, her sweet perfume, the saltiness of her skin under his tongue, her silky touch. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me”, his voice low and raspy. He shifts one of his hands to her center, his nimble fingers flicking her clit, while his hips move increasingly faster. His other hand cups her breast, rolling and pinching her hardening nipple. Her breathing becomes staggered and her moans louder, signaling her approaching orgasm. “Come, my love”, he breathes in her ear. In a loud cry, she quivers in his arms, her walls clenching tightly around him. Not holding back anymore, he abandons himself to his own pleasure. Shuddering, he empties his seed inside of her with a deep groan.

They lay side by side, skin against skin, in a tangle of arms and legs, savoring the moment. He doesn’t want to pull out of her, he doesn’t want to leave her heat. She turns her head towards him and he moves his head forward to press his lips against hers, his tongue sweeping her mouth.

If only they could stay like this forever — united. 


End file.
